


The Race for a Life

by OceansDeep54



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Blood and Gore, Crying, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, M/M, Major Character Injury, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Triggers, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceansDeep54/pseuds/OceansDeep54
Summary: A breath: the power of breathing; life. All he has to do is breathe. A breath in, a breath out. Ignore the ache in his legs, and the burn in his lungs. Just repeat a breath in, then a breath out. To breathe freely, is a privilege, not a right. When you run, your breath is a privilege because you are on someone else's clock, not your own. Lance has been training for this moment, the moment where he learns what it truly means to breathe. His lungs burn with each breath as his legs pound on the asphalt, never slowing down. A marathon is 26.219 miles, 42.195 kilometers. Pushes of air in and out of the lungs. Sweat running down the side of your face, legs numb past the point of pain. Exhilaration in each step. The heart of a true runner never stops and neither do their legs. That is, until a bomb blows them off. That's when you truly understand the meaning of getting to breathe on your own terms, enough air to let out your last exhale, or your first scream. This is a story of a runner, a lover, a survivor, and a boy who just wants to breathe freely, who picks up his pieces to complete his puzzle, and to rebuild what he has lost.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time trying something like this, but I'm really going to try and do it justice. This is basically a Boston Marathon Bombing Survivor story. I got this idea in my head a few days ago and I know something like this has not been done yet as far as I know, so I just wanted to put something that's definitely different out there. Please subscribe for update notifications. I hope y'all like it and leave kudos/comments and tips for me if you wish to. Enjoy reading this!

“Lance c’mon, we need to get up,” Keith mumbled, a small smile on his face as Lance slowly woke up. With one arm wrapped around Keith’s side, Lance groaned and snuggled in tighter to Keith’s firm chest. Keith just chuckled softly, tucking his chin into Lance’s hair, kissing the top of his head. 

“Okay, for real, we gotta get up,” Keith said again as he rolled Lance onto his back, freeing himself from the octopus grip of his boyfriend. 

“No, my warmth, come back,” Lance whined with his voice still groggy with sleep. Keith gave him an irk look as he picked up a pillow and proceeded to whack Lance with it. Lance’s eyes opened against his will due to the unwanted whacking on his head. 

“I hate you,” Lance grumbled as he finally rolled out of bed, wobbling as his feet struggled to hold the sudden weight. 

“Yeah yeah, I love you too,” Keith said with a smirk, pulling a shirt over his head. Lance scoffed at the sarcasm in Keith’s words as he pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt, too. The duo made there way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen of their little studio apartment. Their daily routine is done with ease as they work around each other throughout the small kitchen. With breakfast done in five minutes tops, the two relax at the little table against the wall of bay windows. The view stretches out over the city, looking down on the people and corner shops. The road below is blocked off due to the marathon happening today. 

“Well, you think you’re ready for today?” Keith asked as Lance shoved another piece of toast into his mouth. Lance nodded his head up and down in uncontained excitement. He choked down the toast in vain trying to open his mouth to speak. 

“Oh I am so ready. More ready than you would ever believe. I am readier than the readiest of the ready.” Lance said, grinning that crooked grin that made Keith’s heart absolutely flip. He laughed at the other man’s goofy words. This man right in front of him, Lance McClain, made Keith fall in love with a little more everyday, no matter how stupid he can be sometimes. Keith smiled at the excitement in his eyes as he talked about the marathon. 

Keith knew Lance had been looking forward to this race and had been training for it since he made up his mind about it a year ago. Keith was there to see the struggle Lance went through having to whip his body in to shape, all the days he went out for a morning run at the crack of dawn and didn’t get back till noon, dripping with sweat. He was there to see him still doing workouts even though it was late at night. Finally, all that hard work had paid off. Lance was, very much visibly, in top shape with lean muscle rippling under his skin with every move he made. Keith was proud of Lance in every way possible, and he was determined to show him that. 

As Lance put his glass down onto the table, Keith reached over and gently took Lances hands into his hands. The other man went quiet with the action, looking to Keith for answers. 

“I’m extremely proud of you, you know that right?” Keith said softly, his hold tightening just slightly on the other’s hands. Lance, dumbly, blinked at Keith for a second before a smile stretched across his face in earnest. 

“Of course I know that. You’re the one who’s had to put up with me through all of this,” Lance claimed with a laugh. Keith stood up with a smile at that, pulling Lance along with him. Keith brought Lance closer to him, cupping the back of his neck with a gentle hand, bringing Lance down into a soft kiss, barely a press of lips, but that’s all it took for Lance to crumble into Keith’s arms. Keith grinned into the kiss as he tangled his other hand into the brunet’s hair at the nape of his neck, and bit his bottom lip. Lance giggled, giggled, and Keith pulled back with a perplexed look on his face as he proceeded to watch Lance absolutely lose it. Still wrapped up into each other’s arms Keith a had to shuffle back awkwardly to keep the two from falling as Lance stumbled forward while wheezing with laughter.

“Dude, what is your deal?!” Keith said, huffing out a short laugh of his own. Lance just continued to wheeze trying to catch his breath as his face twisted into a scrunched up smile. Lacne stumbled forwards once more, but Keith failed to keep his balance once more, and the two fell to the ground, Keith landing with a lovely sounding thud while Lance landed across his toned torso. Finally, the man stopped cackling and looked down at keith below him, giving him the cheesiest grin you could think of. He let out a content sigh as he glanced over his boyfriend, memorizing every single detail of his face.

“You done yet?” Keith asked, sarcasm laced within his words. He raised one eyebrow giving Lance his signature “are you kidding me” look. Lance huffed and nodded, quickly pecking Keith’s lips in a chaste last kiss before peeling himself off of Keith and him off of the floor. He glanced over to the clock above the counter, the time reading at 9:25am. The race started at 10:15am for Elite Men Wave One.

“Hey it’s about time to head out, race starts soon. You ready?” Lance asked as he gathered the last of his things including his phone and earbuds.

“Yeah, ready when you are,” Keith replied, pulling on a pair of shoes real quick and snatching up something Lance couldn’t recognize. The two leave the apartment hand in hand, walking to the sign-in, thinking about different things. Lance’s train of thought is directed to how he is going to place in this marathon, mentally preparing himself for what is to come, hyping himself up in his head. Keith on the other hand, is thinking about something very different from Lance. The other man doesn’t know it, but in his pocket, Keith has a small box and in that box is the wedding ring he plans to propose to Lance with after he crosses the finish line. Their friends Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge plan on being there, too, to add another surprise for Lance at the end. Keith smiled to himself. Today was going to be great.

 

Lance and Keith parted with a kiss goodbye at the sign-in for the runners to get their wave numbers. Lance, being the idiot that he is, waved stupidly at Keith till they couldn’t see each other anymore. Keith chuckled at his childish notion. As he began walking up the sidewalk leading to the finish line he pulled out his phone and dialed Shiro, who picked up a few rings later.

“Hey, Keith, where are you? The rest of us are already up here at the finish. Race starts in fifteen,” Shiro informed as Keith made his way up the pavement, finish line in sight. 

“Yeah, I’m almost there Shiro I can see the line now. I’ll be up there in like a minute. Okay, I’ll see y’all then. Bye.” Keith hung up the phone and made the last stretch to the finish where he met up with the other three. After greeting one another, Pidge spoke up. 

“Alright Keith, enough games. We’ve been dying to see the ring you got for Lance, so spill,” Pidge demanded. The others nodded in agreement. Keith sighed, but couldn’t hold in the proud smile he wore as he took out the box with the ring. Inside was a platinum banded wedding ring with two hands holding a diamond heart in between them. Hunk and Shiro nodded in approval as Pidge’s eyes lit up like an anime character’s with the little sparkles in them and all. All keith could do was smile as he imagined Lance crossing the finish line, him seeing Keith down on one knee surrounded by their closest friends, and seeing his face as he placed this ring onto his lover’s finger. A firm hand clasped his shoulder. 

“He’s going to love it,” Shiro told him, giving Keith a warm smile. Soon enough, the marathon started, and the runner’s were off.

 

 

 

Lance started off great. He was in the front of the wave keeping a steady pace. For the first ten miles at least. Nearly half way through is when the real fatigue had started to set in. His only goal was to place in the top ten, he had the mile average for it. He could do it. He just had to do it. At mile twenty-one he was about ready to give up. He hadn’t stopped once yet, but his pace was suffering. His heart was pounding in his chest, ready to jump through his ribs at any moment. The stitch he gained in his side seven miles ago was clinging to his lungs with every inhale, giving slight release every exhale. Sweat burned his eyes as it dripped down the sides of his face soaking his t-shirt through. The ache in his lungs and the burn in his legs is what kept him going, reminding him that his race was not ever till he crossed the finish line. He pumped his arms at his sides trying to gain as much speed as he could.

‘Just a few more minutes, just a few more miles,’ he thought to himself as his body worked to keep moving despite the obvious pain. He huffed in and out hard, the stitch stuttering his air as he did so. Without realizing he rounded the final corner, the last mile stretch, the other twenty-five were left behind him. He looked around what little he could and saw that there were only five others around him, pacing him. He grinned.

‘I can do it. I can do it,’ he thought, as he pushed harder with his muscles, everything in his body ready to give up. When he looked straight ahead he could see Keith, his one and only, standing at the finish line, for him, only for him. Lance smiled at his lover. That was last thing he did as a sudden loud bang resonated in his head, a ringing had taken over his ears, his body feeling unnaturally light, until it hit hard into the unforgiving asphalt. And all he could see beyond him was black.


	2. The Senses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally chapter 2 my baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes or typos before hand mkay sryyy

Keith, Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk are all anxiously waiting for the first few runners to start rounding the corner for the final mile stretch that ended at the finish line. Thousand of people were lined along the sides of the street rooting for loved ones or for the strangers who just need to be encouraged to keep on going. Finally, the roar of the crowd at the other end of the stretch grows in volume as the first few had rounded the last corner, scratching for first in the final mile. Keith focused as much a he could, believing Lance, his Lance, was going to be one of those first few. And he was.

He was in the mush of five people as they paced one another as they rounded the final corner for the home stretch. When Keith saw him, his eyes had grown wide and he let out a yell, startling the other three into running to his side to see what he was shouting about. When the others saw they, too, hoot-n-hollered for their friend. Keith had the cheesiest grin on his face, and happy tears in his eyes as he saw his lover running towards- no, to him. That is, until the deafening bang went off. On instinct, Keith ducked and covered until his body had registered that there was no imminent threat to him, at least. Keith stood back up shakily, his breathing becoming staggered. His brain had finally registered what had just happened. 

His view of Lance was lost due to the black smoke curling from where he was just running. The sight of small flames licking at the edges of the smoke is what brought Keith into reality. His breathing took in a startling inhale, as the ringing in his ears finally lessend to the point he could hear all of the blood curdling screams. From every direction there was someone shouting in vain, or crying in agony. Keith was shaking down to his core as he turned to look at the others. Pidge and Hunk wore the same expression of absolute horror, while Shiro looked as if he’d just seen a ghost. 

“S-Shiro,” Keith croaked out as he looked to the older man, “What was that?” he whispered in terror, wishing he didn’t know the answer. Anyone with a brain would know just from the sight of it. A bomb. Right where lance was running. Right where lance was running to see him. He doesn’t see anyone running anymore. He looked at the other two then back at Shiro, as if he was expecting an answer out of someone. Pidge and Hunk stayed silent with shock.

“Keith. Go.” Shiro said in a quiet breath. He didn’t need to be told twice. With his pulse jumping under his skin and his breathing ragged, Keith began to race down to sight of the explosion, desperately trying to block out all of the screams coming from every direction, acting like nails being hammered into his skull with every wail. As he gained more ground, coming closer to the destruction it wasn’t just the sight that made him want to turn the other way, but the smell. It made him want to gag the rotten taste it left in his mouth as he ran towards it, inhaling the vulgar scent. It was mixture of metal, smoke, burnt flesh, and blood. 

As he came upon the wreckage the smell and sight were almost too overwhelming. All around him were innocent people that were mangled beyond recognition or had missing limbs, or both. In shock and in horror, Keith fell to his knees, a powerful sob wringing itself out of his throat as he took in all that he was seeing. These people no longer looked like people. 

He turned his watery eyes away to the left, no longer looking at the crowd, but where the runners were last seen. In a struggle, he managed to get himself up off the ground to drag himself over to the area in agony, terrified of what he would see. As the smoke began to really clear, he could see what true damage had been done. Chunks of concrete were spread around the area as EMTs were rushed around trying to help those who needed immediate medical attention. He could see the faces of these people as some sat still in complete shock or were sobbing clutching onto someone else as they looked away from their ragged limbs. 

Everything around Keith soon became background noise as he turned back to his right to catch a glimpse of a familiar royal blue t-shirt. The same one Lance wore to run today. Time seemed to slow to a stop, as well as Keith’s breathing, as he saw the figure lying on the bloody hot asphalt in the middle of the catastrophe. Keith’s heart stopped right then and there as he saw the figure shift his shoulders, as if his body was waking up from a deep and tiring sleep. Without even realizing, Keith’s body moved on it’s own volition towards the figure, his eyes locking onto the mop of familiar brown hair that was now caked with blood that could or could not be his own. Or both. Keith practically fell to Lance’s side when he reached him, just as his eyes began to flutter open. Lance tilted his head towards Keith, eyes half-lidded as if he was almost asleep.

“Keith?” he whispered, bringing his right hand towards Keith’s leg. Keith grabbed tightly onto his hand in a crushing grip of half-assed reassurance, not certain if it was for him or for Lance. It didn’t help, nonetheless. Keith raised their clasped hands up to his lips, kissing the scraped knuckles softly. When he lowers their hands and really looks at Lance, he sees that from the waist up he seems okay, just a lot of scrapes and surface wounds, nothing time can’t easily heal. It’s what’s from the waist down that makes him want to throw up.

Just past Lance’s knees at about shin length are the bloody stumps of what once used to be his legs. The left leg is blown almost evenly off, the tips of white bone and tendon showing themselves present just beyond the burnt skin. What’s even more mortifying is his right leg. The skin is ripped and torn beyond saving, and extending from the bloody meat stub is the long white bones of what used to be his shin, picked clean of all the meat. Keith lets out a heart wrenching sob that was barely muffled in time by his free hand covering his mouth. He turned back to face Lance, whose brow was furrowed as if in confusion.

“Keith, what’s wrong? What’s happening?” Lance struggled to say, his throat raw from the smoke inhalation. He struggled to bend his body to see his lower half, but Keith leaned over him to block his legs from sight. 

“Lance, no.” Keith whispered, his eyes watering with fear and concern. Lance’s brow furrowed, his face looked tense and confused as he gazed up at Keith. 

“Keith, please,” Lance begged, clutching at Keith’s shirt with his other hand, “What happened? Everything feels weird, I know something's not right. What’s going on? Why-why…” Lance’s voice faded to a halt. His breath shuttered past his lips as his eyes moved to look behind Keith, though he could hardly see anything. As he began to take in his surroundings, he white-knuckle gripped Keith’s shirt as the scene before him started to become clearer. He looked off to the side of them and saw through the smoke around them other people lying on the asphalt nearby. As he focused more he began to see and hear more than before. The ringing in his ears had subsided, allowing to now hear the screams and cries that have been echoing throughout the whole block. He could see others bleeding out in the street and on the sidewalks, both men, women, and children. 

Lace turned his head back up to Keith in earnest, searching his eyes as if they had the answers. All he could see was pain in the purple irises of his boyfriend. Lance took in another sharp inhale as he began to feel needles of pain around his knees. It felt as if a million scorching needles were repeatedly poking and prodding his legs, but no further than slightly past his knees did he feel it. He grunted with effort as he went to shift his feet to see if he could get any feeling in them. That’s when he realized something was deathly wrong here. His eyes swiveled till they locked back onto Keith’s, horror making them fever bright. His mouth opened and closed, not being able to form the words he wished to ask right away. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak.

“Keith,” Lance asked dangerously quiet, “Wh-what’s wrong with my legs? Why can’t I feel my legs?” he asked in a breath, his breathing becoming faltered and ragged. Keith exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He sniffled in an attempt to try and hold back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He brought a hand to Lance’s face and gently cupped his cheek, swiping at the few tears that rolled down his cheeks.

“I don’t-I don’t know what to tell y-you Lance,” Keith stutters out, his voice a mess of cracks and hiccups, “I am so, so sorry.” Lance just continued to look at him with impossibly bright, wide eyes as Keith let out another sob. The hand on Lance’s face traveled around to the back of his head and brought his head up to rest against Keith’s collarbone while the other wrapped tightly around his waist, the tears beginning to flow freely from them both. Lance brought his arms up to clasp around Keith’s back as he tucked his head into Keith’s shoulder. That’s when he saw it, through teary eyes he saw the real horror. His breath left him as if he had just been punched, his lungs unrelenting as he struggled to breathe. 

His legs. You could hardly call them legs anymore. He could, at last, see the very thing Keith was trying to guard him from. The stubbs just below the knees were burnt and bloody and, oh god, he could see the bone extending from his right leg. Lance thought he was going to vomit. His body took on this strange numb, tingly feeling. Until, the numbness melted away, leaving the burning remainders of pain in its wake. Lance screamed. 

Keith scrambled back enough to look at Lance and still be able to hold him. His hands fluttered around him in uncertainty at the sudden screaming. Lance’s face was twisted with intense pain as he let out another wail, the murderous throbbing in his legs never ceasing. Finally, Keith rested his hands on both sides of Lance’s face, grasping for his attention. 

“Lance, look-look at me. Look at me, I’m right here,” Keith pleaded, not knowing how to take his mind off the pain. Lance just sobbed.

“Hey, focus on me. Don’t look back there, look right at my face. I want to see your eyes, please,” Keith’s voice wobbled with emotion as Lance choked on his tears. His thumbs brushed underneath his eyes in a futile attempt to calm him enough to breathe. Lance brought his head up enough to meet eyes with Keith as he continued to cry as the pain enveloped his body. His nails dug into Keith’s forearms as a way to ground himself, leaving crescent shaped marks behind. Lance tried taking a deep breath which just resulted in his breathing fumbling even more, quickly spilling into hyperventilation. He just wished the pain would go away, to let up for just a second. The wish wasn't granted.  
Suddenly, Lance felt a hand grasp his and press his palm against a firm chest, the heart beating beneath it palpable. He realized in his hazy mind, that Keith was speaking softly reminding him to take deep breaths and to just breathe. Lance felt a calming pressure against his forehead, which happened to be Keith’s, as he continued to whisper sweet nothings to Lance, doing whatever he can to take his mind away from everything. Shocks of pain still rippled up his body, but his breathing began to fall back into a rhythm that was somewhat normal. Tears still streamed down his face, but not as relentlessly as before. A sense of calm began to mingle with the fear within him.

Until that, too, was ripped away from him. His breath caught in his throat as his anchor was lost. His eyes searched for Keith, not realizing he was just ripped from his grasps my medics. His vision was blocked with an unfamiliar figure in front of him and the man seemed to be saying something to Lance, but all he could hear was a mumbled mess of words spilling from lips. Suddenly, multiple sets of hands were on him at once. One cinching a tourniquet to both of his legs, one pulling an oxygen mask onto his face, another pair quickly lifting his body onto a stretcher, and a single hand marking a bloody ‘C’ across his forehead. Critical.

“One, two, three, up!” The medic by his head shouts, the others quickly following the order, lifting Lance on the stretcher to the closest ambulance.

“Lance! Wait, no please! Let me go with him! That’s my fiance!” Lance sees Keith shouting at the medic, fighting against his hold to get closer to Lance. His brow scrunches in confusion. 

Fiance? He’s never proposed to me. Well, not yet at least. Why would he say tha-

It slowly clicks together in Lance’s brain. The box, the rushing, the stuttered words, the kiss, everything that has happened this morning. Keith was going to propose when he crossed the finish line. His realization leaves him breathless, and needing Keith now more than he ever has before. 

“Keith,” his throat croaks. He calls again, trying to be heard among the chaos. 

“Keith.” 

Keith’s head turns at the sound and he shoves past the medic. He follows Lance onto the ambulance with the other medics working frantically to hook Lance up to too many machines to count. They start spewing medical terms at one another in rushed, yet controlled voices as the ambulance doors shut and they begin to move. The slight jostle makes Lance grunt. 

His head is swimming and his sight has seemed to decide to tag along, too. He lulls his head to the side where he sees the figure of Keith sitting beside him. Weakly, he reaches for his hand, Keith grasping it almost painfully tight. Keith lifts their clasped hands to his mouth, kissing his scraped knuckles gently. Lances heart deflates at the sight, though he wishes he could feel Keith’s chapped lips against his hand. His body has gone numb, leaving only a slight tingling sensation behind. He’s not sure if thats good or not. 

Out of nowhere there’s a lot of movement, more light, less light, more hands, more muffled voices, more colors dancing across his vision, though there is still a hand gripping his just as tightly as it was before. Now, the mumbling has escalated to what Lance can guess is yelling, as multiple nurse and doctors rush is gurney ot the nearest OR. Black is fading in around the edges of his vision, slowly slinking through the colors till that’s all he can see, the only thing he’s able to hear is his own labored breathing. He’s lost the grip on his hand, tears welling up in his eyes. He feels his body being moved, raised, and set back down again. His head feels fuzzy. The blackness seems to be getting even darker and as he feels a mask pulled over his head, it consumes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got no idea when I'll be updating this next. Hopefully soon, for both y'all's sake, and mine.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try and update at least twice every month, but it's honestly just going to depend on how school is going and the flow of the story in my head. I know that this isn't perfectly accurate, but I'm going to do what I can to make it follow the correct story. I'll do the best I can in the months to follow!


End file.
